


Something They Can Never Take Away

by AlchemK



Series: Poems on Liberation [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: M/M, Poetry, Sadness ™, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 11:01:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12725385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlchemK/pseuds/AlchemK
Summary: At the Battle of Combahee River, it happened: the death that Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens had always expected, yet never was prepared for.He would never live to see their true freedom.





	Something They Can Never Take Away

The din of our steeds fill the air  
With sounds of the war’s remnants.  
Echoes of gunfire only sound in my head,  
It would only be a moment until I was dead.

My horse reared out of fear at a nearby blast,  
How did they know I was an iconoclast?  
I seemed to stand out amongst my brothers  
That sought for freedom like us and all others.

Yet, God seems to disprove of such liberation,  
Helping the slaves earned me condemnation.  
I can tell by the bullet that pierced my side  
Even now I will never be satisfied.

I fall to the ground as my steed abandons me.  
And in my head go my friends, Burr, Marquis  
De Lafayette, Hercules, and Hamilton  
Oh God, there’s a million things he hasn’t done.

A million things that I won’t get to see now,  
His support and friendship I never disavowed.  
He writes: “when I thought you slighted my caresses”  
I know the obvious hidden fondness he stresses.

“My affection was alarmed...my vanity piqued,”  
He wrote that about me, his words would bespeak.  
Even when he had married that Schuyler daughter,  
Hamilton had never pushed me any farther.

God, we were close- too close for married men to be,  
Not married men jointly, but more than a friend to me.  
We raised our glasses to freedom, to the four of us.  
We knew that tomorrow there would be more of us

To tell the story of that night- but not I, lying  
Here, near the bank of the Combahee, dying.  
I did not live to see my glory, my true glory,  
But I gladly joined the fight, something for history.

I feel the blood, warm at my side, cold with air.  
I lie on my back, breaths shallow, face too bare.  
My hand drops to my side, weakly combing the grass,  
I close my eyes and see the free, black troops en masse.

_Rise up_

My vision starts to blur.

_When you’re living on your knees you_

I can’t tell if it’s ice or tears in the corners of my eyes.

_Rise up, **Rise up**_

The pain becomes synonymous to numbness.

_I may not live to see our glory_

The frantic shouts of my men are dull mumbles in my ears.

_But I will gladly join the fight_

I continue to bleed out on the ground, helpless.

_And when our children tell our story_

The cold engulfs me.

_They’ll tell the story of_

I see nothing but darkness.  
Yet, light greets me on the other side.

  
_Tonight._

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys liked this! I might start to move away from the theme of death unless you guys want me to write another one of someone dying??  
> Anyways, feedback is always appreciated!!
> 
> (Also I pulled those two quotes directly from the letters that Hamilton wrote to Laurens...)


End file.
